True Vamp I Am
by dayviiareader
Summary: Sam Evans now lives in the UK with his newly acquired fangs, literally tearing his way through 'life' because...what else can he do? But then he meets Mercedes, and Alicde is either trying to help him or make his undead life that much worse. Oh, and obviously, I own nothing from Glee or True Blood, I'm just a big fan of the shows
1. Chapter 1

**Sam's POV: To Set the Record Straight**

**Sunday, 22/11/2011**

**02:24**

I'm not into sugar coating the truth, so I'll get straight to it. I'm Sam Evans, a vampire. And I mean a _real_ one. Sunlight no longer exists for me - I'd rather not ignite and burn to death.

I drink from humans because I'm always hungry. I feed from them because I sometimes get bored. And why should I have to drink fucking synthetic blood or animal blood when they both taste vile?

No, I don't think so. Human blood is the only thing I'm supposed to drink. Warm, sweet blood from a human's body is such a gift that I always have access to.

I do use my vampiric talents to mess around, too. The lightening speed makes it easy to screw people over, my acute senses freak people out and I can follow them around with my silent walk. May as well make full use of them.

Plus, I have a combination of features which are irresistible to humans, which make me hypnotic and dangerous; I could get any one of them to do what I asked, whenever I asked.

However, unlike the vamps you would read about in books or watch on TV, I don't have that deep knowledge about the arts, literature and whatever else. School was kind of a struggle for me, considering my dyslexia, and that wouldn't suddenly change because I turned into a vamp. Although I have all this spare time on my hands, I use it for more exciting things like…well, the bad things in life, the sins.

You'll never really hear much about a young vampire like myself – I still sing, dance, and slip back into my American slang here and there, which British girls tend to fall for.

As soon as I changed, I left everything else behind. My 'fuck-it' attitude made that pretty easy.

Despite all that, having too much money was one thing I had in common with fictional vamps, although it's not acquired from a century worth of work or having rich ancestors to inherit from. I've never dug for diamonds in Sierra Leone or sold expensive keepsakes. I haven't been alive-slash-undead long enough for that, anyway. I've stolen a few cars, robbed an occasional bank, lifted some things from jewellery stores or sometimes asked people (in the polite way that I do) to hand something expensive over to me.

I'm afraid to admit it but I _know_ my sense of humanity is receding. All my human compassion is dissipating as I become colder and as more human blood enters my system. I have an infinity of lifetimes ahead to care about that, though.

So far, it was all about discovering my capabilities. How fast could I run, how far could I get a girl addicted to me, how many stores could I rob in a night? Was there a maximum amount of blood I could drink within a week?

Was there a limit on the amount of damage I could do?

I've done a lot throughout the last few years, the last few days especially.

But now, I was about to outdo myself.

**22:26, the previous Friday**

As a group of semi-drunk teenagers staggered past me, the smell of smoke and alcohol reminded me of what day it'd be in a few hours.

My fucking vampire birthday. The day I was turned, I mean.

My human birthday was in May, and I should have turned twenty years old. Today, I was stuck at the age of eighteen again. For the rest of my life, I'll be turning the same age.

The cold and dark November afternoons allowed me to walk outside earlier in the evenings than I could in summer and though there was still a light tint in the otherwise murky sky – which slightly stung my skin – I was fine.

When I was sixteen, my dad moved the family here to the UK for a very promising job, helping with the construction and set up for the London Olympics. For a short while, it was great and things were looking up for the Evans family. Then it all went fucking downhill.

I don't know why I'm still here though; possibly because it was so cold and generally darker here that I found myself wanting to stay shrouded in it.

A turn into the canal way and my apartment was five minutes down the stony path. No one was around, so I was able to run (actually run) home. I leaped onto the brick wall that separated the path from the apartments, and swung up to the fifth floor using the balcony railings.

Feeling the cold air whip past my even colder skin was the only reminder that I was exerting energy. It was just like flexing a muscle: one of the perks that came with the fangs. I reached the back window, and pushed it open.

Using the treasures I had taken from a jewellery store last year, I had my apartment tricked out with automated opaque blinds fitted in to every window, to block out any sunlight from trickling in. Even in the day, my apartment would be doused in shadow.

There were no sources of fire here either, because I wasn't risking being anywhere near open flames when it was one of the few things that could kill me.

My bed was a super king sized canopy, with heavy black drapes surrounding it. Yes, I do sleep, and I sleep a lot. Around three or four in the morning, I'm always dead-tired.

After changing into clothes that fit the occasion and before I jumped back out of the window, I stole a quick glance in the mirror - an old habit.

"Damn it." An old human habit, I should say.

I only saw the giant bed behind me as I stupidly forgot I had no reflection; and half of me wanted to laugh it off, but the other half wanted to smash the fucking glass into shards. Tell me why I had this mirror anyway? It was just a big pretence.

Sliding the window closed behind me, I jumped over the balcony, feeling just one quick whip of air as I fell, and landed with my feet planted on the gravel – as if I'd stepped forward on level ground.

"Whoa…"

In my peripheral vision, I saw a couple, maybe in their thirties, frozen on the spot.

"How'd you…?" The woman started, looking up to my floor.

Keeping strong eye contact with the boyfriend, a smirk on my face, I said "How did I what?"

In one second, he blinked and then turned to his girlfriend.

"How'd I what, babe?"

I vanished then, up the path and onto the main road. See? Natural troublemaker.

Walking down Broad Street, I was bored straight away when I saw the same type of girls and the same type of clubs over and over.

The repulsive smell of inebriation (of alcohol, drugs, smoke and vomit) actually turned me off from drinking any humans here.

Several girls stared as I walked past, some stumbling over their sluggish feet just to come close to me, but soon having to jog to keep up pace.

"Prick," I heard one man slur.

By the time I decided to stop and turn back around, the man was still finishing off the word.

Two girls continued to walk up to me, fluffing their hair and pushing out their chests. The other guys standing by all took a step back, thinking that he was about to get his face smashed in. Immediately, with me, they saw danger.

Point taken, it was my super-enhanced hearing that allowed me to pick up his comment, and I did turn around too quickly

With a hint of amusement, I replied. "What?"

He was too drunk to be careful; so he squared his shoulders and answered – an instant mistake.

"I said," not even able to get his words out properly without spitting all over himself "that you…are a p-"

I'd walked over at my vampire speed as soon as his sloppy mouth formed the word 'prick' again.

Either he was too drunk or I was so quick that he didn't even notice I was inches away from him. Not until I had a grip on his arm.

"I'm, uh, hard of hearing, sorry," and I squeezed his arm. He took a sharp intake of breath, in too much pain to make a sound. "Say it again." I squeezed that bit harder.

"Shit, mate!" He was sinking to the floor, arm still in my grip.

That British term had always grated on me for some reason. "'Watch your mouth kid, or you'll find yourself floating home,'" I didn't care less that I was quoting Star Wars, it was just the right thing to say, "and I'm not your fucking mate, either," and then I crushed my fingers into his arm.

The way he was screaming and writhing when I released him, I think I might have broken it. The loud crack we all heard was a hint, too. And I didn't even do much to it, so I felt kinda pleased with myself.

A small woman shrunk into the man she was with, and his arm tightened protectively around her.

I looked down at the guy on the ground.

"Bastard" he managed to cough out, cradling his arm.

I couldn't really argue with that, not when it was kind of true with my overreaction.

With my excuse that every one was drunk, I ran, just above human speed.

With no idea where to go, I ran out toward the outskirts of Birmingham.

The incident with him was already out of my concern, but the image of the girl with her man stuck with me a while.

Having to be with just one girl seemed like a burden, they were so easily damaged.

It was probably different with vampire couples because they'd both be able to fend (or kill) for themselves and defend the other.

I hadn't yet met another vampire, not here. I've only been a vampire for two years anyhow, and I wouldn't really expect Birmingham to be teeming with creatures like me.

So that meant I needed to branch out farther.

**22:58**

And I don't understand why exaggerated stories and badly made movies have vamp guys getting all involved with human girls. No vampire should be so weak – they shouldn't show it, at least. I considered love a weakness in itself.

I knew I could run so much faster than I did to get here, but that was a test for another day – maybe another year if I had that time.

Yeah, time is **all** I have.

I was standing outside Empire Leicester Square Cinema glancing over the films they had showing. Terrible ones, was the answer.

People were walking up and down the streets, taxis were backed up in the roads and sober girls in thick coats and miniskirts were everywhere.

One girl stumbled into me, pressing her warm body into mine – too enthusiastic to really be accidental.

She looked up, and I stared down at her. I could see her face was showing both attraction and repellence, but the more logical side took over as she saw my red-tinged green eyes.

"S-sorry," she stuttered, and hurried away.

I heard the liquid sound of her heart pounding faster; and the sweet smell of it near the surface of her skin made its way through my nose, mouth, throat and then the rest of me.

I was seriously hungry, and my big appetite was one of the few things which had passed over from my human life.


	2. Chapter 2

**23:11**

I had wandered around the streets, not actually familiar with London all that well, looking for a nightclub where I knew a guy who worked the doors.

Then I found it, Asylum, leaking bad music through its doors. There was a small crowd of people lined outside, all dressed up for one of the lamest nightclubs around here, full of slightly intoxicated people. It was easy access with my connection on the door and the least obvious place for me to feed.

"Sam" the bouncer said, nodding once. Alcide was a bouncer for a club-slash-headquarters for trouble in Coventry, and bailed me out when I was about to rip the head off one guy. He knew what I was, immediately, and said that I would never bite (kill) him. I instinctively wanted to do the opposite but this was one time I took anyone for their word. He seemed different, one you wouldn't fuck about with, or especially feed off. I'd gone back a couple times after that which resulted in him becoming someone I could tolerate.

"Behave" he added.

I nodded and pumped my fist to his as he stepped aside to let me through.

The music was loud, too loud for my sensitive ears but I was able to hear the club's happenings anyway; the two girls arguing near the bar, the pealing sound of ice cubes hitting glasses, the heavy breathing of the party-goers on the dance floor; the sound of two people moaning in the restrooms.

I could also smell sickly drugs, the strong scent of alcohol, faint sweat, stale perfumes and colognes and that artificial smell of a fog machine.

But light and sharp, I could instantly smell blood, and that caught my attention. I saw a girl at the farthest side of the room, clutching her hand over a table of broken bottle glass.

I zipped through the moving crowd, so fast that I brushed against no one.

She must have been turning a lot of other guys away all night because she clenched her jaw when she heard me clear my throat; ready to tell another guy to fuck off.

But, obviously, she didn't.

I'd put on a tiny performance, pretending that I wasn't after one thing and was really concerned for her gashed hand.

"Ouch," I said, trying to sympathize.

After one moment of staring, she finally let the pain show on her face. "I know."

"Plastic cups from now on?" She couldn't unclench her teeth from the sting although she managed to chuckle. "Where are your girls? Or guy?"

She mopped at her palm with the last bit of non-blood stained tissue. "What?" She asked, leaning forward to hear over the music.

I moved to sit next to her on the bench, and leaned in closer while giving her the space she needed. "I asked where your friends are."

"Oh. I was supposed to be meeting someone, but they flopped on me last minute. I bought one drink and this happened."

"Need help?"

She looked at me attentively then, at my expectant face and probably dangerous eyes and nodded in response. Gingerly placing my hand on her elbow, I helped her to her feet and led her to the restroom. She walked with me, willingly.

My fangs became longer, sharper, slippery and my mouth started to taste bitter and dry; ready for blood. I walked that bit faster with my victim in tow. It was as if she had been waiting for me, sitting there with blood on her hand as if to welcome me.

**23:30**

Drinking blood still gave me a chill. It was still new and fascinating and beautiful to me; the sugars made it sweet and the iron made it salty. The past couple of years went by in a big blur with only pools of red and floods of screams for reminders that they really did happen.

From the point my tongue licked the blood from the girl's palm, I soon gave into the thirst and looked forward to what came next: the rush.

She must have been too shocked to react at first, but just as she was about to scream, my sharp fangs pierced the tender flesh of her neck and the tough muscle beneath her soft skin.

I drank and drained the blood from her neck, and then from the rest of her body.

Everything about me was parched and dehydrated and dizzy and hollow. Now, I was being deliciously satiated by her warm, sweet, thick, salty and clean blood. The best I'd drank from...well since the last time I was thirsty. Each time felt ten times better than the last. Her breathing was beginning to weaken. I couldn't stop though, not that I would, and I couldn't pay attention to the painful, draining death she was suffering. I didn't care, not when I was frenzied.

I dug my fangs in harder, and wrapped an arm around her semi-deadweight body: I was crushing her.

And with several final cracks, she was limp, dead in my arms.

She was finished, drained of blood and then there was nothing more for me to drink. My mouth was smeared with blood and I could feel it in my throat. The farthest bathroom stall had a broken light above it, making it out of order just by its appearance. I left her body inside it and made a mental note to inform Alcide of my make-do trashcan.

It would probably be over-flowing with bodies of the unlucky males and females I drank from by the end of the night, because I needed second helpings, thirds and fourths and more, as much as it would take until I was completely satisfied or bored.

After drinking from another four humans or so, it became tedious before I was definitely full.

Alcide had stepped in to survey the club, and when he saw me walking toward the bar, he nodded towards me to ask if everything was alright. I inclined my head toward the restroom, and made a mock apologetic face. He shook his head in frustration, but motioned for two larger men on the other side of the room. When they reached him, he spoke a few words, and they nodded, heading towards the restrooms. I didn't know how they'd sort out my empty glasses, but I knew they would; cleanly and discreetly.

The music was still thumping through the room, and bodies were still moving. Annoying multicoloured lights flashed in the dark, and it felt as if the whole room danced with the rhythm of bland music.

"What will it be, love?" I stared at the bartender in her tightest black shirt to have any guys tipping her extra. Her flirting would have definitely brought in more money.

"Surprise me."

She winked before she turned around to the massive supply of alcohol behind her.

Then the curviest girl I had ever laid eyes on sat down – or rather collapsed into the stool one place away from me. She huffed, depressingly, and leaned forward on the counter.

"Surprise her, as well" I said.

"Um, thank-"

"Don't mention it," I said. Like me, she was a fellow American here in crappy England. I don't know if that made me more concerned with her or not. I focused on the white diamond band around my wrist, my substitute for silver, because I needed the distraction, because foolishly, she was the first human girl I met that I didn't want to kill straight away.

That fucking freaked me out.

**Saturday**

**00:38**

I could hear her deep breathing in the next room; she was fast asleep – exhausted by my stamina.

She was eighteen too, and she never thought to question why I didn't look like a normal eighteen year old - probably because I looked better than the usual. Even if you count the years I've existed with fangs, I wasn't that much older than her. But I knew that was a moot point. In most ways, I was superior, so I was not right for this girl.

Mercedes, she said her name was.

Now it was after midnight, and although I didn't really feel like doing much, I was too awake to sleep at such an early time. I switched on her small TV and searched for any music or movie channels – a permanent teenage habit. Perching on the edge of her deep purple loveseat, I closed my eyes and half listened to the lyrics which were currently being shouted at me. Someone was singing something about time.

Starting a couple of months back I was pointlessly keeping track of time, though I didn't know what I was counting down to. What if I'd end up counting down until it was impossible for me to exist anymore? I wasn't going to wait that fucking long.

A heavy sigh from the bedroom caught my attention. Sure enough, the bedroom door creaked open, and I tried to focus back on the television screen. Dragging her slow feet along, I heard the bathroom door open then close. In seconds – or minutes – she shuffled toward the living room and with every heavy-footed step she took, the more frustrated I became, and I didn't know why

"Hi," she whispered when she rounded the side of the couch. I smiled tensely in response. She stood just a short distance in front of me, wearing black silk pyjama shorts, a bra and the black shirt I had worn here. _My shirt._ She fidgeted with the cuff, and I wondered what it was she was expecting. My arms were resting on my knees so it wasn't exactly an inviting posture. I straightened up and stretched my arms over the back of the loveseat.

I carried on watching her. As soon as I sat back, she smiled and slipped onto my lap, burying herself in my chest.

She was brave; practically giving herself over to a vampire who could kill her in a second and not feel any way about it. But then she couldn't have known what I was, and maybe I should have let her know the truth.

Honestly, she was heavy on my lap, but even if I wasn't unnaturally strong, I still would have liked the way she felt against me.

"Hmm," I murmured, too quietly for her to hear. Still experimenting, I slid my hand beneath the shirt, to the lower part of her back where, ironically, a sunburst was inked onto her dark brown skin. Her heart fluttered, and she shivered. My mischievous streak flared up, because I found my way to have fun, and possibly at Mercedes's expense. "Why are you awake?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure, why are you?"

I tried my best not to laugh. I still had a couple of hours before I had to take shelter at home, because I was certain that sunlight could easily creep in from every angle here. I wasn't about to reveal my true vampire self to her, and even if I was going to, I wouldn't do it by burning to death.

I needed to leave _soon_. But Mercedes had slipped her arms around my neck.. With her still in my arms, I pushed up from the couch – very slowly – to take her back to her room. With the tightening of her arms and a sharp intake of breath, I could tell I had still moved too damn fast. Her heart was beating loud and hard, and the rapid flow of blood around her body was sweet music. Earlier tonight, just these sounds would have ended with me full of blood and her empty of it, so why didn't I feel the slightest bit willing to drink from her?

I pushed her bedroom door closed with my foot and laid her down on her double bed. She watched as I walked over to the window, and pulled the curtain back slightly. I wasn't sure why I had to check daylight wasn't on its way yet, because I was usually still out at this time, gallivanting around town.

Then again, I had never before stayed with a girl for this long if I wasn't planning to drink from her. Who's to say the sun wouldn't suddenly burst into the sky right now?

But luckily, it was still dark, and I could feel a nocturnal buzz pulsing through the city.

_Pulsing_...

"What are you looking for?" She was reaching out for me when I turned back around to face her, and in a pitying way, I held her hand and lay down next to her.

This, I was able to admit, was just fucking sad. Like before, Mercedes snuggled as close as she could to me, and I couldn't help but think this was probably her first one night stand: possibly her first and last one with a vampire, since there seemed to be a distinct lack of them around. Drawing stupid little patterns on my stomach, I felt a familiar hunger, but not the usual for blood. I really wanted to have sex with her again.

Coming up with a plan to make a swift and quick exit afterwards, when she'd hopefully be asleep, I unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off from her, tossing it behind me. She gave a cheeky grin, and at the same time I pulled her closer – with my attempt at human strength – she rolled on top of me.

Mercedes didn't know that I could go for hours and hours, probably days and days, and it was something even I was only semi-aware of. Obviously, I had only ever been with human girls, so it never really lasted for long and at the end of it I would feel like I could go ten times more.

After I fucked all the sense out of her, and after I was done doing nothing productive, it was my main aim to find someone else like me; preferably female, and preferably a few of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**01:45**

It was easy to recognise the exact moment Mercedes slipped into a deep sleep. My scarily good hearing meant I could listen and pay attention to her breathing: heavy and slow.

Right next to me, I felt the muscles in her body completely relax and heard how steady her blood was flowing through her vessels. It took a while for her to fall asleep, and some more time for me to be sure she wouldn't suddenly wake up again. Now, I needed to get the fuck out.

Using nothing but my speed, I crept out of her bed and scooped up my shirt from the floor. My trousers were draped on the back of an armchair. Getting dressed took no more than five seconds; I paid attention to one second the way humans pay attention to one hour. It feels like hell sometimes, constantly being so aware of the time.

I made one last visit to her bedroom where she was sleeping.

She was insanely curvy, sweet and pretty, but there was a front about her that I couldn't understand.

I had a weird desire to leave something there for her, so it wouldn't seem so meaningless. It obviously wasn't because I would have been long gone by now or she would have been drained of blood. To be honest, I had no idea what this was, but there was something that told me she could be a part of what I was living. I was more determined to prevent it than accept it.

I realised I didn't actually have anything to leave her; my number would have been too much for the first time.

"Fuck's sake!" I was wasting too much time over someone that wasn't worth it, so I needed to go. I was far from home, so I decided now was the best time to run at full speed. After getting all my shit together – thoughts included – I made my way out of her flat and back to the club where we met.

Music was still playing from inside but the crowd was nearly non-existent, only a lingering party vibe was left behind.

Alcide was there in his usual position, talking to a small group of people. He saw me approach, and sauntered over.

"Where is she?" Alcide's as tall as a door and his shoulders are just as broad but he wasn't the slightest bit menacing to me.

"Who?"

"That girl you left with earlier. Did you kill her?"

"No, man, I didn't," but my eyes couldn't keep contact.

"So you left her with enough blood to walk?"

"I didn't drink from her." Even saying the words out loud confused me. "But I did fuck her, and kind of hard, too. So I don't think she'll be walking anytime soon."

For some reason, he found that to be the funniest thing in the world, and roared into laughter.

"The fuck?" I asked. But he only managed to take in a breath. And then he got me laughing too.

"So what the hell does that mean?" He said, still grinning.

I didn't know. "Nothing, just didn't feel like drinking from her. Nothing big."

"So you slept with her?"

"Affirmative."

He rolled his eyes. "And you didn't drink from her once?"

"Negative."

"You're feeling okay?"

"Different, but fine," I answered. I was guessing Alcide's confused expression was mirroring mine.

"Right. You off now?"

"Yeah, I think I need to be."

"See you around," he said, and he reached out his hand.

"Yeah, see you."

I started to walk again, past his friends, until I would be completely out of sight to run.

"Sam?" I stopped, and looked back at him. "Happy Birthday."

"Aw, it's your birthday?" One of Alcide's people asked. "Have a good one, mate."

I wouldn't have needed to see his amusement to know it was there – Alcide made it fucking blatant.

"Yeah, thanks," I replied, before walking faster than he would have liked whilst people were around.

I couldn't stand Alcide, sometimes.

The closer I got to the edge of London, the faster I walked.

Now, I was coming up to the motorway lined by dark fields on either side. And finally – fucking finally! – I was able to run home as fast as I wanted without hesitation.

My long legs pumped easily, automatically, and the night air whipped hard around me. The darkness of the night and of the fields all blurred to form black walls; the streetlights of the motorway looked a bit like the streaks of a sunrise. I was running faster and faster, and it began to feel like my feet weren't touching the ground.

As soon as I had started to run at my real speed, I was almost halfway home. My head was clear, my legs were simply strolling but in truth, I was flying. I felt very little energy being exerted, and if I still had a heart – if I still needed to breathe – I doubt it would have beat any faster, I doubt my breathing would have quickened in the slightest. It felt as if the wind was running for me, it was the easiest and most exhilarating thing ever, and it still felt as if I could run twice as quick. The only thing that stopped me from trying was the fact that this was the fastest I had run in ages, and seemed so new that I had to savour it.

The eastern side of the sky was becoming less dark so I ran that bit faster. I felt cold all over, from the wind and the thrill of it.

As the Birmingham lights came into view, I started to slow down, as much as I didn't want to.

By the time I reached the dark and abandoned warehouses and factories of the Birmingham outskirts, I had halved my speed.

And in just one quick step, I was back. With one strong leap, I was finally home.

**02:10**

It was a reasonably short process between showering and pulling on my sweatpants. Showers helped me to kill my endless supply of time and it let me think of other things, even though it was a redundant process. Since when did dead people need to wash?

Once I made sure all the blinds were closed I turned on the blue light, because it reminded me of Avatar, in my room.

Stored in the mini fridge in my bedroom were a few bottles of blood I 'obtained' not long ago. In case I woke up thirsty, which actually never happened, I always kept a small but always fresh supply of blood in the flat. I took out one of the smaller bottles and placed it on the sill, to warm up, and sat on the edge of my king-sized bed.

I just wanted to go to sleep right now. Two years. Two fang-fucking-tastic years and they felt pointless. I didn't know what I wanted but I just knew that I didn't have it yet.

I skimmed my fist against the wall; ripping into the wallpaper and cracking the bricks.

Another reason why I wanted this day – night - this time, whatever the fuck it was, to end was because I wasn't feeling like myself. I was hoping it was just the fact that I should be turning twenty, but I was still eighteen. Or the fact that just over two years ago, I left college and was thinking about going to university back home in Ohio or in any other state. I still could, actually.

Maybe it was because I didn't even have the slightest urge to drink from some random girl, even though nothing at all was blood-blocking me.

I couldn't wait anymore; slightly chilled blood wasn't that bad, but I suppose it's just like having cold fries or warm beer, not exactly delectable. I turned off my lamp and dropped onto my bed, occasionally gulping down the very ordinary O+.

As I started to feel sleepier I could tell the day was creeping in. I was looking forward to the hours and hours of sleep I would get, and the hours and hours of daylight I would miss out on.

_It was night again and I was back in London where all the club lights lined both sides of the deserted road. _

_It was my plain intention to walk down the sidewalk, and see what was going on. But as soon as I stepped forward, I was half way down the street, everything passing in a blur; I was running when I only wanted to fucking walk. _

_I looked into the neon-lit liquor store beside me, finding that it was empty inside. All of these building were lit on the inside but dark and empty inside. _

"_What the hell?"_

_Then I saw a huge figure at the other end.. _

"_Hey!" But they didn't budge. I came closer to Alcide standing like a wall outside of Asylum. "Al, what's up? What the fuck's going on?" He only reached out to open the door and let me through, the only building that seemed to have something on the inside. _

_With only a moment of hesitation I walked (ran) straight inside._

_There was no light inside. All of a sudden, in the farthest corner, a naked light bulb flickered on, lighting a mass of something into view. _

_One normal step meant a vampire sprint, so I found myself flying towards the light, falling onto a pile of people. Of empty bodies, of corpses. And as I lay stunned at the top, the heap seemed to grow body by body. I flew to the base of the pile, next to a girl's body. _

_That girl, from last night, the first one I drank from, with the gashed hand. I looked up to the tower of empty shells, and could put a time and a place to each face. People I had killed. I felt someone approach from the entrance, and I quickly got up to my feet because who knew what would happen next. _

_Mercedes, wearing my shirt again. In a weird sort of pathetic way, I was happy she was here. But the longer she stood there, the more I could see that she wasn't looking like herself. There were bleeding red bite marks over her neck, arms, and wrists and inside of her thighs._

"_Who bit you?" I asked, knowing that I hadn't harmed her like that._

_She didn't reply, but she shook her head with a sad smile on her face. She came closer, slow and fearless. She placed a hand on my neck, and I suddenly felt my fangs extend to the longest they ever had before, piercing my own tongue, and they felt too slippery and tasted too venomous. But I couldn't imagine biting her, not when she looked so damaged. _

_One muffled sound and Mercedes and I were both surrounded by all of the people I had killed. I don't think any life had returned to them although something was allowing them to stand. _

_In a really delayed way, Mercedes moved her hand up to my face to touch her wrist gently to my lips. Everyone was waiting and staring, and she nodded her head. _

_So I dug my fangs into the delicate skin of her wrist – never taking my eyes off away from hers – but my mouth started to burn._

_It was like an acid burn. I backed away, and then saw golden light pour from the wounds in her wrists. _

_Sunlight had replaced her blood, and it was now leaking from all the bites over her body. Then, it was not just from her but from every one of my victims standing here. Sunlight coming from everywhere, burning me like hell. _

_The bites were small so the light was like a fucking mass of pinpricks and it was goddamn excruciating. _

_I was briefly brought to my knees from the pain of being scorched, but I managed to hurl myself towards the door. _

_Alcide wasn't there anymore, and when I looked back into the club, everyone was gone. I still had the evidence of what happened, my skin was sizzling and smoking, the heated pain sank through my skin, through my muscles and into my ice-cold veins. My cotton t-shirt was dotted with sparks, as if it was just about to catch fire. _

"_Damn!" I had to rip it off, and throw it away. _

_There was a figure lurking to my right, moving on the spot without actually getting closer or further away. Immediately, I could tell that it wasn't Alcide and it could not be anything human. It was swaying and bouncing, the type of movements that you see an athlete do before they sprint. _

_And it did. It launched in a split second towards me, faster than anything I had ever seen run, faster than I could ever imagine running. By the time it was near me, it was too late to focus to see what it was. It was too quick for me, and then everything just went black._

_But the dream didn't end; I was stuck there, and I couldn't wake myself up from it._

**20:39**

When I finally woke up, I was on edge. That was the most fucked-up dream I'd ever had.

I was able to wake up at earlier hours because of how I tricked out my apartment. Even if I had woken up at midday, which would never happen, I would be perfectly fine if I stayed inside. I checked out one of the blinds, and the night had already settled over the city, so it was safe to go out.

My head was filled with cloudy thoughts and I didn't know what the hell to do with them. I've never stayed the night inside my place. I'm kept in by daylight, and freed only by the cold darkness outside. I have to stay inside to sleep when the sun is out, and my heightened impulses and crippling thirsts come alive and intensify during the late hours.

I don't think any existing vampire would ever stay in at night – the darkness was too precious.

Setting the timer on my phone, I slowed down the human time around me and made my unnatural body speed through it. When I ran back out to stop the clock, I saw it took 4.6 seconds to undress, shower and dry. _Did that take too long? Is that normal for a supernatural like me?_ I threw the towel around my neck, blasted some good old soul music, a woman crooning about a man who'd done her wrong, from my stereo and stood before my closet. I didn't know where I would go tonight, or what I would do.

When I first turned, I thought time would move quickly for me.

Fuck _no_!

It was passing too slowly. Maybe I really did need to return to America, because England itself was feeling too much like a tool shed.

Maybe I needed to meet _new_ people. Humans were too easy to mess with, or too easy for me to drink from. But maybe that was _my_ problem.

Maybe I just needed to put on some clothes first. After sliding into boxers and dark blue jeans, I pulled on my light blue hooded top.

If I was still human right now, if I wasn't changed by that fucking idio, I would bet with all my money that I'd still be living here anyway. It's like I was trying to live the human life I'd planned for myself.

Another big pretence.

I missed my dad.

I missed Mercedes.

Well, I missed having sex with her.

If I told her what I was, and asked her to come with me abroad – what would she say?

I felt like I needed to laugh at this idea. I hoped I wasn't being serious.

I tightened my black boots on my feet and shrugged into a black jacket.

_Restless._ That's what I was. I was bored and anxious, I didn't know where to go or what to do or what it would mean to just stay here.

A stream of bad words flooded my head as I pushed the biggest diamond I owned into my ear, and I felt my fangs sharpen. I was angry and frustrated.

Maybe I needed to see Alcide, the bouncer and my friend. I've never had a serious conversation with him before. He knew I was a vampire, obviously, and I never questioned how.

Now, I should ask him something. Now, I had to wonder if he knew something that could help me in some way.

Now, I could ask him: _what the fuck am I supposed to do with myself?_

Because I know what I can do – I can thieve, I can kill, I can run, I can be strong, I can glamour humans, I can sleep with as many girls as I want, I can go anywhere I want to go at night, I can drink blood for ever, I can move quicker than light, I can see absolutely anything, I can smell a prick of blood from another room, I can hear everything, I can have all the money I want, I can own a lot of things and being dead means I can live forever and I can be anything I damn well want to be.

There was still the same similar question though: _what the fuck am I supposed to do with myself?_

* * *

**_Just to say, there WILL be Samcedes very soon, in Chapter 5 definitely. But...there has to be a Chapter 4 first :)_**

**_Hold tight. Let me know what you're thinking; honestly_**


	4. Chapter 4

**22:22**

I had got in my metallic grey Mazda 2 with a little more than a grand with me. I split it up into smaller wads and kept them in different pockets. I even tucked a couple hundred into my boots.

I had a few blood bags to keep in the trunk.

When I sped into London, I drove and parked the car in Wembley on the quietest and nearest road; one most familiar with me and the one that was the least ghetto. With one bag of blood stuffed in my pocket, I headed towards Asylum again.

On a Saturday night, I knew the streets would be alive with people. I knew the clubs and restaurants and all the buildings catering for nightlife would be packed with pulses and vibes.

Scents of blood poked at me, even though I wasn't starving. I was always thirsty, actually, and it constantly ached. But this is how it will probably be for the rest of my life.

Any sort of alley or empty street I came across was where I took a swig of the satisfyingly warm AB negative. This way, I could at least remember the main reason I was here instead of being distracted by my thirst.

When I came across another empty alley between two office buildings, I leaped back and forth up against the two walls. My feet finally landed on the dingy, narrow rooftop.

I made the layers of air whip around me, and I reeled the rough ground beneath my feet. The world raced around _me_. The gaps between buildings weren't anything but potholes in tarmac, and as long as I kept away from human sight, I was running as fast as I liked.

**22:50**

We were in one of the big, warm rooms at the back of the club, owned by Alcide's godson.

He didn't have to be on the doors tonight, but he sometimes stayed around to help out with the bar or with anything else. I think that meant he was always here.

Alcide's default mood, I discovered, was quiet and naturally frustrated, and I was learning that he's kind of a weird character. Then again, I'm fluent in Na'vi, so I can't really say anything.

He was leaning against a table, sipping some kind of garden tea with a splash of whiskey. _Odd-ball_, like I said.

I wondered which question to ask first and where to start.

"Got something to say, Sam?"

My eyes snapped up to his, his tone had too much of an edge, so I had to lick away the taste of venom from my fangs.

The corner of his mouth pulled up. "You're not a calm person, are you?"

"I need to know something."

"About…"

I couldn't mess about now; I didn't care what I said or how I sounded or if it pissed him off.

"How did you know I was a vampire?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched but his face remained neutral. "You told me."

"And you accepted it straight away. Why?"

Over these fang-years, I was learning to read faces better. So I think the look on Alcide's face meant that he was trying to decide what to give away – whether he needed to say everything or nothing at all.

I suppose we were both lucky that he chose to just be straight with me, as he grunted and pulled out a chair to sit. "I'm not going to give you any personal shit so don't expect it."

"Whatever."

"Mike is the same thing as you."

In my defence, I've never met his godson, and we obviously never spoke about him. Even if I had met him, were there telltale signs of a vampire? I couldn't see my own reflection, so I didn't know what I looked like to others. I didn't know what people saw to be so attracted or repulsed by me.

Alcide's _godson_ is a vampire?

"How come you never mentioned that?"

"You never asked."

I could have flipped out, but I think this was called progress. "So how many vampires are around?" His response was obvious as soon as he was about to say it. "I mean _are_ there any other vampires around?"

"Not a lot."

"So just your godson..."

"And his friends."

I slid down into the couch. "Shit, is that all?"

Alcide shot me a confused look. "Well I don't know every vampire here, Sam. I'm saying there are five that I've seen."

My masculine urge seized me for a second. "Any girls?"

"No girls." He rolled his eyes.

By the way Alcide spoke about him; I could tell that his godson was sort of a big shot.

After a few long seconds of silence, I spoke again. "It's been two years."

"Yeah, Sam, so you keep saying."

"And I, uh, don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Kill people and sleep around?"

"No, Alcide, I mean I don't know what to do now -"

He interrupted with, "Just keep doing what you're doing."

"No, I really don't know what to do, in the future."

It looked like he was thinking for a second. "Take up dancing." My fangs grated against my teeth. "Or start up a vampire business."

"Alcide, stop doing that. You don't fucking get it, you don't get shit." Without realising I had sprinted to the other side of the room, my hand gripping the tarnishing door knob, and it was bending beneath the touch of my fingers. Alcide's head whipped around for a second, looking for me. He didn't move when his eyes locked onto mine.

"What's wrong?" His voice was so cool, it infuriated me. My anger is what made me let go of the handle, somehow. "Sam, I'm trying to…what is it you want from me?"

I couldn't admit it to myself all this time. "I need help, Al."

"I know." There wasn't the same frustrated tone in his words now – he was being real. "I don't know vampire habits, Sam. You're kinda right, I don't know shit." He was being honest and calm, but now I realised that his voice was just a permanent growl. "But I do know _you_. You might not want to accept that but I don't really care." I moved, at a normal pace, to the table to stand opposite him. "You feel alone, and you don't like it. You need to do something about it."

"No shit, Sherlock." But the first part of what he said, about being alone, was true.

He shook his head. "Hm. I wonder why you didn't drink from that girl last night."

"No. I've drank from people without killing them before. I've slept with girls without killing them."

"Do you usually spend so much quality time with all of your drinks like yesterday? Do you usually feel 'different' after screwing them?"

I didn't say anything for a while, just stared him down. "I don't like her."

"I believe you."

He didn't sound like he did. "This was a waste of time."

I heard him shift before his heavy feet carried him round the table. Anticipating this, I shifted too. We faced each other with a wide berth between us.

The provoking tone was right back into his words. "Do you want me to tell you why you feel stuck?"

"Yeah, help me out."

"All you do is run back and forth like a lost dog. All you ever do is fuck girls and drink and kill. That's it. You just do all the bad stuff that you probably wanted to when you were human." He crossed his massive arms over his massive chest, and his voice started to rumble. This was how he acted when he gave drunks or misbehaving dickheads a warning. "You fucking swear all the time, just because no one will say anything about it. And you treat people like they're just insects on the ground. You just need to toughen the fuck up a bit, Sammy."

I was hearing every word he was saying. I was ignoring his tone. And I was accepting his point. I didn't care about what I've done or how I've acted but I did want to do something about it right now to make my vampire life more bearable, and still exciting.

Becoming a vampire gave me the chance to abandon all my old ideas and rules – I wasn't human anymore.

Everything was new and open to me: it just didn't mean I was ready to consider why I kept looking at Alcide's mouth, why I wanted to stand sort of closer to him.. I hated noticing his strong arms and chest and legs, how ripped he was and how his skin was naturally tanned.

I hoped to fuck that this was just a temporary vampire symptom.

"You need a little vampire friend. Maybe a couple."

"Like your godson?"  
"No. I don't know him that well, you know. You need to go to places, meet some new people."

"I can't -"

"You fucking can. But, obviously, you need to stop biting them and sleeping with them, first."

"I can't hang with humans, Alcide."

"You count humans as _vampire_ friends?"

I was silent, because I didn't actually know what the hell he was talking about.

"Find yourself another vampire."

And I heard what else he was trying to say. _Make a vampire for yourself_.

Although it only felt like two weeks, in the past two years, I've never thought about anyone else apart from myself. It didn't cross my mind that I'd want a friend to do things with.

"How am I supposed to find another one?"

"Mike. He owns some other clubs, and I think one of them has a lot of fangs in there."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you could branch out."

"On my own?"

"Well, find someone. Take that girl you're with, you didn't tell me her name." He shrugged into his navy coat, put down his glass in the sink and looked into a small mirror to comb his fingers through his brown hair.

"I get you, even if does sound like bullshit. Where should I start?"

"I'm not sure. Go to see her again. Or go home. Maybe then you'll know what you need to do. Call me, and I'll talk to Mike."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Are you hanging around here?"

"I don't know." I still didn't know anything. "Thinking about it, you haven't fucking helped me at all. Not right for right now, anyway."

"Not for right now," he repeated. He pulled the door open, and turned back to say "come back here Tuesday, alright?"

"Whatever."

"See you later."

The air whipped around me, and Alcide was one black spot in my vision as I sprinted past him. I was outside now, standing behind the club in a cramped passageway. It didn't take long to figure out what I wanted to do right now.

Maybe Alcide had a point

That was it: I needed to see my dad. Maybe I'd go see my mum too, if I was sure I wouldn't end up ripping her throat out.

I knew I had to see Mercedes, though I didn't know why.

My dad was first, though. It would be the middle of the night by the time I got there, kinda late to stop by even if he wasn't sleeping.

But I would try anyway.

Yes, and then I will intrude back into Mercedes's life for one more night.

**23:34**

I ran on as many empty streets and rooftops and canal ways and alleys as possible to get back to my car. The speed I used to run to Birmingham yesterday was what I doubled now – so I knew for sure that I couldn't be seen by human eyes.

My dad had moved to Wolverhampton a little while before I vamped away. He hadn't seen me since I turned, but I stopped by the house a few times; for no actual purpose.

I had thrown in the remaining four packs of blood into the passenger side, and I drank each one as I drove. It just wasn't as satisfying as drinking it fresh from a hot, human body. Nothing was as good as that; it was more than a million times better than drinking it from medical plastic.

But there was something utterly and completely wrong about feeding off someone before seeing my dad.

I tore down the motorway, straight towards him.

**Sunday**

**01:30**

Stupid, damn, fucking karma – it caught up with me already, too quickly. Now, I knew why the world wasn't on my side. I knew why my dad's about to die: because I'm getting everything I've given out.

I had pulled up a few houses away. There were three signs that told me my dad wasn't there: the lone light switched on in the front room, the front door left ajar and the absence of my father's smell replaced by an unfamiliar human scent of antiseptic and of fresh water and old blood. It was repulsing.

Actually, there were four signs – the white car parked in the drive. It had the words _Bright Hospice_ stencilled on the doors.

The house went completely dim. When I was about to drive and head towards the hospice, a woman stepped out of my dad's house holding a white plastic box, and double locked the door. I remembered that I didn't know where this hospice was. I felt my fangs extend, but I didn't want to drink from her. This was the first time I've been scared since I had turned into a vampire and being scared meant I needed to be on guard.

Swinging out of the car, I slammed the door shut to catch her attention. She looked towards me.

She was trying to remain calm and polite, but I saw the keys and the box tighten beneath her grip. My distracted mind meant I didn't try to look less dangerous, so I spoke to calm her. "Where's my dad?"

The woman was pretty, and looked Hispanic or Asian.. "Sorry?" She relaxed a bit.

I knew my teeth had blunted again, I could feel them. I gestured towards the house. "My dad. Dwight."

Her wide eyes softened, and I saw tears prick her eyes.

_Can I cry? Can _vampires_ cry?_

"You're Sam?"

I nodded.

"My name's Luna. Um, I'm your father's nurse. Well, one of them." _I. Am._ Those small words held my composure, my hope. She extended her hand out towards me.

I touched the sleeve of her thick grey hoodie instead, and looked right at her. "Why are you crying?" I withdrew my hand, as one tear streamed down her skin.

"He mentioned you, just as I left."

"What's wrong with him?"

Both of her hands held the box now. "You should go to see him."

"I won't be able to come back until tomorrow night."

"Visit him now."

"It's too late to visit." When I said the words, I knew she meant that he might be gone by tomorrow. I nearly choked on the thought. "Really?" It was her turn to nod. "I don't know where it is. Will you direct me if I drive your car?" I gazed at her, looking into her eyes as I asked. Yeah, I was using my glamour in case she said no.

"Of course." I took my father's box from her, placed it on the back seat and slid into the driver's side. She would take too long to drive, and I couldn't really drive her back in my car, in the daytime.

She got in, and our only conversation at first was her instructions to turn left or right.

At one point, we travelled down a straight road, and she asked me when the last time I saw my dad was. I answered with the question I asked earlier: "what's wrong with him?"

She brushed tangled wisps of hair back towards her ponytail. "He has an aggressive form of cancer. Of the lungs." It was obvious she had said this many times.

"When?"

"He was diagnosed in early November last year, and came to the hospice in August. The garden was blooming like crazy, it brightened the whole place." I didn't care how sunny it was or how happy everyone felt. Nothing's happy about that building, in my mind. "The next two lefts and we're there," she said.

"If he's been on his own this entire time, no wonder he gave up."

Her eyes flashed in the passing lights. "Although your mother hardly visited, he has many friends. He was never been alone for long. And gave up? No, he said he was fighting the fight."

"That's a stupid thing to say."

I could hear her fingernails scratch against the plastic box. "I want to ask you something, and you can tell me if I'm out of order…"

"What?"

Luna cleared her throat, before asking me why I couldn't be contacted, why I never came back.

"Those are two different questions. Which one do you want me to answer?"

And neither of us spoke again until we reached the Bright Hospice.

**01:46**

The hospice was comfortable and small, made of two other squat buildings joined to the main semi-circle.

It was a big deception, really – this wasn't home, and there was nothing comfortable about waiting to die.

And there was nothing comfortable or bright about the senior nurse, Sue, either. Even the name and her hard, lined face just made me want to turn away.

But my dad was inside, so using a glamour with her would take no longer than a second.

Her wrinkled mouth opened to say, "Luna, I don't even want to hear an explanation." She gestured behind the desk.

I was expecting Luna to hurry along. "He's here for his dad, Dwight Evans."

That slowed Sue for only one moment. "I wish -"

As cautiously as I could, I walked up to the desk and donned a glamour. "I need to see my dad, right now. Don't blame Luna for this." In fact, if it wasn't for Luna, I would have forcefully used a glamour for Sue – maybe with my hand around her throat.

"Luna," she said, too calmly, "could you -"

"Nurse Sue!"

She blinked, and hurried down the hall. I followed after her, and I heard Luna's footsteps too.

One other nurse stood at my dad's side.

It was only then that I worried if my sudden presence would shock him, and kill him off.

"Dwight was asking for you." A small, thin man spoke.

_Dad_. There he was, lying in the bed. He was dangerously thin, and his once flushed skin was now sunken and pale. His greying hair was just prickles on his head.

When he saw me, though, life flooded his eyes, and his chest grew stronger. There was nothing weak about his smile.

Luna was correct with her implications, that my father needed to see me and he was hoping I'd come. The male carer was wrong; he wasn't really calling for Sue. My dad's eyebrows lifted; it was what he did when expecting an explanation. I guess he was wondering why I looked so supernatural, with my very sharp-looking teeth.

My heart was dead, just a lump of cold dead cells. But if I could only ever feel it beat once in my vampire life, it would have beat then; the first time making eye contact with my dad in two years.

He took in a breath, about to speak. The painful ache inside me was being soothed by the balm of my dad's unspoken happiness at seeing me. I strode over to his sid.

Then his eyes closed. He didn't speak when I got to him. My dad's chest didn't rise or fall again. He was as dead as I was – but his death was peaceful, human and perfect.

I was just the opposite: monstrous.

"Sam," Luna whispered. She wasn't comforting me, she was talking to me. I met her eyes, and she handed me the plastic box. "It's for you, from your dad."

I took the box from her, holding it under my arm. He was gone. He didn't really have a son since I left him and now, I have no dad.

I kissed his warm hand, the only gesture I felt I was entitled to, before backing out of the room and the building.

There was no care in me right now, so I ran at my unnatural speed back to the car. I knew my dad's road and remembered Luna's directions.

Carefully, I placed the box on the back seat of my car.

I wanted to cry and scream and rip someone's fucking throat out – just because they didn't die, and my father did.

_I _wanted to die, if it meant Dad got to stay alive another hour. The only reason I couldn't shed tears was because I was a damn vampire..

The absence of tears clawed me from the inside. My ears were ringing, my fangs were piercing the inside of my lip and the surge of venom made everything in the world awful and bitter. The pain was tearing me, and I wanted to yank out my frozen heart. Maybe the emptiness would be better than the angry grief circling me.

Now I'm a fatherless, stupid, vampire boy. A cruel imperfection in the world.

_Dad, come back, please, I'll go if you stay._

It was too early in the night to go to sleep; there was not the tiniest bit of light in the sky.

It was too late in the night to go back to London, to spend time there and make it back home.

The urge to go back was too strong.

And I didn't care.

Forget the time.

Screw the sun.

Fuck the risk and idiocy of what I wanted to do.

I wanted to leave the pain and grief here, at the Bright Hospice.

Dismiss any remaining humanness, because that's what made me come back to watch my dad die. It's what makes me want to scream and sob and destroy myself. But I'm not allowed to do those things.

I will ignore the world.

I don't care anymore. Not about anyone.

So, that's not true. I just don't care about what _I_ do or what I feel because I don't care what happens to me.

**02:18**

The air and earth shot me along the motorway like a bullet from a gun. The easiness of the run was killing me because my thoughts were still torturing me.

The thoughts and pain were silently killing me on the inside.

Fuck it, though. I will get to spend the remaining hours of my life with a girl I am attracted to. I saw, with my own extra-sensitive eyes, that my dad was glad to see my face, no matter how much it had changed.

Mercedes' house was fresh in my head, so I knew where to go when the lights of London crashed over me.

Being hungry around Mercedes…could I trust myself?

No, I knew what I was doing; I was hiding the sadness clawing me from the inside with an my thirst for blood.

Blood wasn't the reason why I was here. Not technically.

* * *

**For those who don't know, Na'vi is the language spoken by the blue people in Avatar. Sam's a hardcore fan. I don't own any of that, btw.**

**Had to create a little tragedy before Samcedes finally come in - in chapter 5. So, if you read it, review it please. Would like some help with it =]**


	5. Chapter 5

**02:24**

Mercedes' flat building isn't all that big, but now, it towers over me. There were three floors, and she lived on the top one.

I have to take the normal way up. I press the buzzer for flat 3. It rings and rings, without any answer.

Again, I press it harder.

Nothing.

_She might be out._ But I don't think so, it's late.

Should I press another buzzer, and wake someone else up?

The more I wait here and think about it, the more painful the memories and grief is. I could have gagged on it, it was so fucking excruciating. The thoughts of my dad well up behind my eyes, forcing its way into my whole body.

I press the buzzer for flat 2. I press it for three seconds until a very irritated, tired man answers "hello?"

"Sorry it's late. Do you know if Mercedes is in her flat?"

He takes a second to clear his throat. "I'm sure she is."

"She's not answering, so can you -"

Another buzz sounded, and the light on the door panel flashed to a faded green.

I run up the steps like there's just one of them, and when I make it to her floor, the main door is only just smacking open.

There's no answer after I knock and ring the bell. My fist hit the door pretty hard, and then I notice it wasn't completely shut. I close it behind me, entering into the cool dark, and call her name. Small sounds come from the sofa a few feet away from me. "Mercedes?"

She's dressed in a black and white cotton slip, and she sits up, turning away from whatever she was watching on TV.

Her teeth are grinding, and her eyes narrows at me but she doesn't say anything.

"Are you going to speak?" The longer she sat there, looking at me like I'm an enemy, the more the pain grew. _Why can't I have just left it all behind?_

Tears stream down her face like a stupid, stereotypical human girl. "No idea what you've done to me," she says.

"What?"

"I hurt, all over. I've imagined you with me all day. I need to feel you…" She starts to scrape her fingers against the inside of her arms like something is beneath her skin. "I don't care what you're like, or what you want. Please just…" _What the hell is wrong with her? What did I do last night, to her?_ She starts sobbing, and I fucking hate her for it. Not because she looks pathetic but because she's taking those tears for granted: crying for someone like me, when I needed to cry for my dad, and I couldn't.

Well, she better cry as much as she can now because she won't be able to tomorrow.

I'm suddenly at her side, pulling her up by the wrists, and draping her over my lap while she's still mid-cry. She gasps, taken by surprise. All I want to do was get the fuck rid of those tears, maybe to make them mine.

Crushing our bodies together, I wipe away her tears with my mouth. Her smooth dark skin soaks me in, and I can't take my hands off of her. Not holding back, I slide my hands under her cotton slip and she tightens the grip of her arms and legs around me.

"I wanted to see you but I…"

_Please, shut up._ I part her lips, and she doesn't hesitate to slide her tongue to mine

"You're so different," she breathes into my neck. Hungrily, I shove the straps of her nightdress away. "What you did…I don't care…make it happen again. Don't stop."

I know what she was saying was wrong and crazy - how she is behaving should have been some sign that I took things too far.

But I don't care, because caring would complicate things. I just want her to stop fucking talking.

With one swift movement, I pull off her dress. I'm not hiding my vampire skills anymore, so with her in my arms, I sprint to her bedroom.

She doesn't stop tearing at my clothes. I place her on her bed, and then strip out of my shoes and clothes and boxers before pressing my naked body to hers; all in my super speed. I stop her from screaming at my speed with my lips and hands.

"You don't care about what I am."

It didn't take long, but I was stiff for her and she was moist for me. I placed a soft kiss on her lips before slowly entering her.

**03:11**

Over and over, I was thrusting deeper into her, filling her up until she wanted to pull away from being so greatly overwhelmed. We continued to kiss and touch and move against one another. I was pretending that she was everything, the only thing that mattered, in that moment.

**03:28**

The crippling tiredness was creeping in; dawn wasn't too far away.

_So this was what self destruction felt like? _

**03:38**

Time, for once, was clumping together. Although the vampire minutes I spent with her were long, the sun felt like it was rising quickly.

**03:43**

I made sure to consider her needs, and hit all of her right spots in several different positions so she moaned my name repeatedly. I wanted her to at least remember something good about me, because in another two days, she would seriously think of me as an enemy. Mercedes couldn't go any longer. It wasn't the length of time we spent together; it was my strength devouring her weakness. I took all she had, but it was what she wanted, and how she wanted it.

As she recovers from her aftershock and keeps her hands clamped around mine, I know she'll collapse into a deep sleep within the next five minutes.

Time is creeping away from me.

Sickening sadness infects my dead body. I press a hand against her collarbone so she'll look at me, and when she does, I take on a glamour. "Don't scream or cry or fight against what I'm about to do. Please just accept it." She nods. "And…don't kill me afterwards. Don't despise me, not forever." I honestly don't know if a glamour can be so strong.

"I would never."

I turn her face away, and sink my fangs into her tender neck.

Mercedes' beautiful, warm blood feels good down my cold throat. Her body reminds me of a fluttering petal in the wind beneath me. I stay straddling her, drinking from her neck.

Things aren't so painful anymore – nothing seems as devastating.

Although her blood is liquid power for me, the fatigue is being poured over me by the hidden rays of the sun.

Maybe my depression is feeding from the blood too; so the point of draining Mercedes dead comes quickly.

Then I stop.

Then I place one finger on each puncture. She can just about sputter and draw in ragged breaths.

My fangs are sharp and slippery with the swirl of venom. I tear into my cold, dead flesh. I press my wounded wrist to her lips as the poison and worthless blood pumps into her mouth. "Drink," I instruct.

She drinks from my wrist as I had from her neck. Despite the glamour she's under, there's no mistaking the knowing pain deep in her eyes.

**03:34**

_I'm a fucking idiot!_ As Mercedes' slowly changes into a vampire, like how my mother had organised for me, I realise…

No, it had taken twenty-four hours for me to change into a vampire. Mercedes won't die this morning, only I will when the sun rises.

At least she will survive the sun after I've taken away her choice. It's the most selfish and sinful and stupid thing I have done – yet I've felt worse for lesser things. When I pulled my wrist away from her red lips, she froze into unconsciousness.

All I did was drape her nightdress over her.

Like with my father, I didn't deserve to do the right thing now, to say goodbye. I didn't cover her up with the blankets, I didn't straighten her pillows and I didn't lay her down in a comfortable sleeping posture. She stayed sprawled out, wild and ravaged, how I left her.

One thing I thought I could be entitled to, out of respect and care and as an apology to her, I sunk into her purple loveseat in the living room after pulling on my boxers and jeans.

Rough, thin curtains hang from the few square windows in the room.

The dark waves of night crash onto me. Until they melt into the yellow rays of dawn, before they scorch and burn and kill me, I will wait here to take responsibility for once.

**04:14**

The tiredness is suffocating me. The increasing sunlight is burning me. My thirst is slicing through me. The pain and all other fucked-up emotions are flooding every dead inch of me. I can't move or do anything.

**04:30**

I'm dying such a painful death.

It's kind of funny, 'cos I've been dead for two years. Now, though, I will be dead for real and for ever.

I'm falling asleep, and I will sleep until the sunlight sears me awake and kills me.

I kind of hope that when Mercedes eventually opens her vampire eyes, that she will forgive me. I don't want my soul, whether I have one or whether it continues to float around the earth, to have to bear this guilt.

I'm going to die soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**So sorry for the delay, my lovely followers/readers. Lost the will for a while.**

**But just now - I just got a burst of inspiration!**

**This chapter is kinda short, but I'd like to think it's action packed.**

**Read/review (pure honesty please) and enjoy.**

* * *

**Monday, 23/11/2011**

**21:30**

All I know is that I am crowded by shadows and lying on my stomach.

I know in a second that I'm not dead. Well, no more than I was before.

I just don't know where I am.

Or why the fuck a silver chain has been tied around my wrist. Ribbons of fire crawl beneath by skin and through my empty veins. It spreads through me, and it hurts like hell.

My arm is the only part of me chained by the fire, so it's obviously just to stop me from flipping out.

"Alright. I'm fucking fine!" I shout, through gritted fangs. I look down to my wrist, and find it's not even tied; it's just wrapped around.

Then I'd still have to touch it, can I bear that pain?

I'm in some sort of lounge, but I can hear voices and footsteps from somewhere far away. So I figured that I was in a basement or something.

"I'm cool, just move the silver!" I don't know if I I'm strong enough to move it myself. "Fucking please!" I sit up, trying to find a position for my arm which isn't so excruciating.

Part of the noise I hear comes closer – footsteps coming down towards me.

"Why do you swear so much?"

My arm is being crushed by the pain of the hot silver, and the actual chain is like a band of razors puncturing my wrist. "That's a shit thing to ask." The footsteps come closer, and a lean Asian guy, just a little bit shorter than me, walks over.

"Sorry about the silver. But if this happened to me," with his gloves on, he carefully peels it away, "I'd probably kill someone before I even opened my eyes."

"Yeah." Smoke sizzles from my wrist, and there are bloodied, chain link depressions singed into my skin. He throws the silver aside, and steps back.

"You okay?"

"Peachy, who are you?" I get to my feet, clutching my arm.

"Mike. And you're Sam?" He extends his hand out to me.

_Mike the Vampire_. I had to admit, there was a ring to it. He doesn't seem so bad, so I shake his hand.

"While you heal, can I ask you something?" His voice is really level and calm, extremely different from his thug of a godfather.

"Okay."

"Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Oh, damn fucking _no_!"

"I guess you weren't, then. Or, you just realised you're still alive? In that case, sorry."

"No, where's Mercedes? That girl, oh my god, in the other room? How did you even get me here? Aw, wiya! Where am I? Fucking hell, where's Alcide?"

He smiles, and sits on a randomly placed leather computer chair. "I knew you'd freak out at some point. She's okay, though, I left her where she was. I can bring her around, if you want. But she's kinda…you know -"

"Yes, yes."

"She'll be fine. What's 'wee-wah'?"

"Wiya," I correct him. "Mean 'damn' in Na'vi. Avatar language," I add after seeing his confused expression.

He didn't say anything more about that. "Should I answer your questions?"

"I think so."

"From your last one. Uncle Alcide, that's what I call him, he's upstairs, working, as usual. The club's closed though. And I have a car with tinted windows, and the club's not far from where you were. So I drove fast and got us both here, safe and sound asleep." He reaches over to this safe-like box, and pulls out two bags of blood.

Ah, yes, I was thirsty. He throws me one, and after I check it over, AB+, we both rip into them at the same time.

Once the dryness in my throat is doused, and the burning of my wrist is stopping, I ask him, "how can you be Alcide's godson, _and_ a vampire?"

With his red-stained lips, he answers, "well, I've always been his godson. And then I was turned into a vampire?"

"No shit, Sherlock. I mean…you look kind of young, but you act older than him." I'm bullshitting a little bit, I just wanted to know more.

"Yeah, well, you're welcome for helping you." But I can see that he doesn't mind me. "Alcide was my older brother's best friend. He died unexpectedly when I was fifteen. Alcide knew he couldn't take my brother's place, and he didn't want to. But he did look after me. Then I turned when I was eighteen years old, and now we're not as close as we used to be."

"Right. So in normal years, you should be…"

"Thirty."

"You've been a vamp for..." It took me too long to work it out, but Mike didn't speak. "Twelve years? Shit. How old is Alcide"

He finishes his blood, and licks away the red from his fangs. "Thirty five."

"Ah, so he's old then." I take another, thoughtful sip.

"You know I'm still classed as a foetus?"

"What?"

"Obviously vampires can live for ever, and time means practically nothing to us. So being a vamp for twelve years is not even the beginning."

I don't know why the hell I feel irritated at that, but I do. Probably because I've been moaning non-stop about how long I've been a vampire and I don't know what to do with myself now, yet my shitty two years hasn't marked anything at all. _I'm_ nothing at all.

I do nothing to keep the chill from my voice. "So what does that make me?"

He pulls out another blood bag, hesitates for a second, and then puts it away again. "I don't think you're even a thought yet."

Yeah, I fucking figured.

"It's weird – half the older ones hate us because of our youth-"

"You mean for being turned young or just being young in vampire years?"

"Well, let's say _you_'ve hit the jackpot. But yeah, some elders envy us young ones; the other half couldn't care less because we're all immortal anyway."

"Right"

"Well, that's vampire 101 done on my part. Need to ask something else?"

"How did you find me? Like, do you keep track of every single vampire who enters your club?"

"Well, no. But drain ten humans in one night, genius mouth, and not only will at least a hundred humans be concerned, I'll be goddamned concerned too."

Okay, I have to accept that. He's been decent this whole time too. "Genius mouth?"

"Genius, because you're not a genious. Mouth, because I can't stop staring at that thing."

"Makes it easier to hide the fangs, dude."

"Props for that. Anyway, Uncle-" He's cut off by the vibration of his phone, and he gives me a minute finger as he answers.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or confused by this Mike person. He seemed safe enough, and too nice.

But that wasn't my main problem.

It was Mercedes – the girl whose life I'd infected with my poisonous fangs. I'd had sex with her, and it was great.

And to make her fragile state even more breakable – I turned her into a fucking vamp.

But she wouldn't be fragile anymore. She'd be strong and powerful and invincible like me. Although I was trying to end myself, I would have preferred it if I got to see my own progeny kill me. I deserved it.

Now, I really wanted to see her and make sure she was alright.

"You okay, man?" Mike asked, clicking off his phone.

"I need to see her. I did this to her, I should look after her."

"And you will." His grin was telling me something.

"Mike!" I could tell that rumbling voice anywhere.

I didn't get how, but Mike's smile widened. "Looks like you've got yourself a new vampire girlfriend," he said, bringing out an open trunk of blood bags.

In the space of a second, a rush of air entered the room. My fangs sharpened and leaked venom into my mouth at the sign of danger.

There she was. Mercedes. Beautiful and curvy and dark skinned (yet paler than before) and radiant and dangerous and…all vampire.

And fucking pissed and hurt and angry and upset. I could see Mike's fangs lengthen too, but it may have been out of sheer joy at this reunion. He smiled, and nudged the box of blood with his foot.

That broke Mercedes' death glare straight at me. Lucky for me and probably my throat, her newborn thirst overcame her thirst for my destruction.

Cautiously – which completely contrasted to my first feed when I was eager and messy – she opened and drank bag after bag of blood.

I knew I needed to face up to my actions and accept the consequences.

Not right now, though. While she was immersed in her second bag of blood, I summoned all the inhuman speed I had in me. Combining the speed I had been using in the past couple of days, I sprinted out of the room so fast that I didn't even register leaving the building. I heard her scream behind me, but I knew she wouldn't be after me just yet, not until her thirst was satiated.

Now, it was a fucking game of cat and mouse. I was a coward, I know. But I was still broken inside.

After all this time, I was praying to meet another vampire because I didn't want to be alone anymore.

I was trying to find amusement in the fact that now, I had two fucking vampires on my case. I ran and ran, without any destination but with a purpose; to get far enough away from the death of me.

**Mercedes**

The blood felt too good running down my throat for me to stop and chase after him. The hot Asian vampire next to me - Mike, I think his namce was - chuckled at Sam's reaction.

_Just you wait you fanged asshole_, I thought to Sam as I tore through my third bag of delectable blood. _Wait until you meet the real Mercedes Jones: diva and now fucking vampire, thanks to you…_

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